When winter passed, she came again,  
And her song released the sudden spring,
Like rising lark, and falling rain,  
And melting water bubbling.  
He saw the elven-flowers spring  
About her feet, and healed again  
He longed by her to dance and sing  
Upon the grass untroubling.  

Again she fled, but swift he came.  
Tinúviel! Tinúviel!  
He called her by her elvish name;  
And there she halted listening.  
One moment stood she, and a spell  
His voice laid on her: Beren came,  
And doom fell on Tinúviel  
That in his arms lay glistening.  

As Beren looked into her eyes  
Within the shadows of her hair,  
The trembling starlight of the skies  
He saw there mirrored shimmering.  
Tinúviel the elven-fair,  
Immortal maiden elven-wise,  
About him cast her shadowy hair  
And arms like silver glimmering.  

Long was the way that fate them bore,  
O’er stony mountains cold and grey,  
Through halls of ireon and darkling door,
And woods of nightshade morrowless.  
The Sundering Seas between them lay,  
And yet at last they met once more,  
And long ago they passed away  
In the forest singing sorrowless.